at’s played fer twatree hunder o year,

ower wi fock on a aerly ship.

The soond thay mak taegither is wyld.

~

Afore the dance, thir bairns unnaemed.

Astrid explaens the service tae Darling:

at seiven or eyght Stannart Year,

whan raedy an chossen, thay tak a naem –

or, in Orcadia’s wirds, gie –

a naem an a sel tae the staetion’s care.

Thir tree the night, an parents an elders,

an ither fock at choss tae waatch,

like Darling, stannan at the back.

This year hid’s Øyvind’s taen the role

o Naemer. He haads a gless o bleud.

(Hid’s sinthesised, no oot o shaem,

but bleud o a lamb is ower rare

an ower dear this lang weys in.)

Erlendsbairn hitches thir sark,

steps apae the aald wid altar

an harks in Øyvind’s lug. The Naemer

draas a ring on the bairn’s broo,

haads skinnymalinky airms, an cries,

“Haelga!” Sheu steps doon. An “Haelga!”

cries the crood, hintan the naem.

Darling’s voyce is brakkan noo.

Sheu speirs o Astrid – a seicont bairn

steps ap – “But what if she’s got it wrong?”

Astrid’s a bittie bombazed. “Thir aye

anither year,” sheu says, grabbid.

Darling’s een is wheels. “How often

are you allowed to take a name?”

Astrid: “Wheesht!” The naem comes: “Kit!”

“Thir nae a rule,” sheu mummles, thight.

Darling thinks fer a peedie blink.

“Could I give a name?” sheu speirs, saft.

Astrid disno reply, an waatches

the laast o the bairns spaek tae the Naemer:

Erikasbairn, sibleen o Brenna.

Øyvind stairts whan he hears the naem.

A still. “Astrid!” he cries, an Astrid

hears the Haa cry oot her naem,

kennan hid isno fer her, but thinkan

some wey yet hid shuirly is.

~

The dance begins. The band gits gaan,

neesteran at first like a injine sat

fer a year, but seun enogh runnan

fine. Thir leader caas the dance:

a tree-step first, tae rax oot limbs

an find the yivver feet thir baet

an dancers thir pairtners; next a set

tae frapp thaim ap, an than a waaltz.

Darling waants tae be the first

tae the floar. But Astrid haads her back,

mibbe oot o waantan tae see

the aalder folk’s exemple first,

mibbe more oot o fear, or jeust

a curn o shaem. But wi the waaltz

sheu finds hersel an lifts her Darling

ontae the floar. Thir plenty wi thaim.

~

Eynar’s waatchan fae ahint his bottles

fer Noor tae come. He disno show hid.

He disno ken hoo he’s bithert, or mibbe

he deus: he’s mibbe no gaan tae see

anither dance, an waants tae dance

wi a new body at’ll mak a meaneen.

He smiles at Olaf wi his bairn,

liftan thaim an birlan roond,

an at the new-naemed youngsters dansan

aafil solemn, tentie noo

as aalder fock, but ithoot age’s

grace an sprets o scarsome speed.

An at the pairtners, futurs telt